


Soaring Tones for Flightless Dreams; Diving Notes for Broken Wings

by capyams



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Attempted Suicide, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Inspired by Yuri!!! on Ice, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Good Friend, M/M, Miscommunication, One Night Stands, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Social Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Drinking, figure skating, friends to strangers, what figure skating fic isn't inspired by yuri on ice or yuzuru hanyu, will add tags as needed, yuzuru hanyu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capyams/pseuds/capyams
Summary: Kuroo glanced over at him, hands on the steering wheel. "Why are you so obsessed with birds? I thought you were always a cat person?"Kenma shrugged."And plus what have I always told you?""I look like a cat." Kenma deadpanned."Kitten. To be more specific." Kuroo smugly joked, eyes returning to the road. "Anyways, it doesn't make sense why you like birds so much. Don't cats and birds always fight?""Maybe the cat is jealous," his voice caught in his throat.Kuroo's eyes narrowed, concern dripping from his voice. "Of what?""Flying."======================================================In which Kuroo and Kenma are childhood best friends, volleyball doesn't exist and Kenma is a figure skater.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. Best Part

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this idea for about a month now and I finally wrote the first two chapters so here they are! :) Also this was envisioned all thanks to one specific song: Nightingale by Dirt Poor Robins. Highly suggest it, but I'm also a big music nerd so I think it's incredible. The title comes from the lyrics just so you know. I also will mention, I spent around three hours trying to understand how Figure Skating scoring works and how people qualify for the Grand Prix Final and I didn't understand literally any of it. So, as a last resort, I'm going off of Yuzuru Hanyu's 2015-2016 season as inspiration so most scoring and placements will come from that. 
> 
> I do have a playlist of songs that specifically remind me of how this work would sound. I primarily use Apple Music, so if you're interested in listening to the songs that I wrote this fic to let me know and maybe I'll link the playlist.
> 
> Also, PLEASE READ THE TAGS. I am someone who really thrives on angst and very emotional themes, and many of the tags I put will be triggering. I do plan on put trigger warnings before scenes that might trigger people. I'm hoping to figure out how to make it so if you want a summary of the scene so you don't need to read it, you can just click a link and it'll bring you to the end of the page where descriptions are. The first two chapters don't have any TW's so just be cautious after.

_“There he is—here comes his quadruple Salchow—”_

_Skates pick the ice and-_

_“Perfectly executed!”_

_His arms gracefully spread out, as if he wants to fly._

_He just wants to fly._

**October 2002**

“I would suggest getting him into some sort of social activity, perhaps sports? Soccer, Football, Tennis?”

“We’ve already tried sports. He refuses to even get out on a field.”  
He fidgets with Link on the screen, fighting a monster that had just appeared on the screen.

“Kenma’s social anxiety is very concerning especially for his age. Maybe start out with something that is limited contact? Arts and Crafts? I know it might be difficult to find something he connects with, but I think it will help especially when it comes to school. I am also concerned that that device will become addictive. Video games will only worsen his social anxiety.” The doctor said as he referred to the gaming system in Kenma’s hands.

Kenma felt his mother rip his Game Boy from his hands and put it in his purse. He got it last year for Christmas- the first Game Boy Color. He shoved his tiny hands in the pockets of his gray jacket and stared at the floor. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be around other kids. He didn’t want to play sports. He didn’t want his mom to take his favorite thing. His eyes welled up with tears and he quietly silenced them as his hands gripped the edge of his shorts.

His mom and the doctor finished their conversation and a nurse escorted them outside. Kenma kept his head down the entire time, his long hair falling around his face, hiding him from the stares of others. His hands kept fidgeting around in the pocket of his hoodie, too anxious to even say anything. 

“Kenma,” his mother sighed as she turned around to face him, “how does some ice cream sound?” He didn’t answer. Her fingers gently carded through his hair as she crouched down to look at his face. “Or we can go to the bakery and get some pie? How about that?” 

Kenma looked up from the ground to see his mother’s concerned pity filled face.

“Can we-” he quietly started, “Can we get apple pie?” A soft sympathetic smile appeared on his mother’s face. 

“Of course, baby. We can get any pie you want.”

She let him have half the pie and his Game Boy when they got home.

Kenma was sitting in the corner of his room when his mother knocked on his door.

“Kenma sweetie, someone is here to see you.”

He sighed, dropping his GameCube controller on his bed and trotted down the hallway of their apartment. In the front room stood a boy with wild, untamed black hair and a crooked grin. A woman standing next to him- his mother, Kenma assumed- crouched down to his level and smiled.

“Hello, my name is Kuroo Mayumi, but you can call me Auntie Mayumi if you want, okay?” Her voice was high-pitched and sweet, the characteristics of someone with the title of ‘auntie’. She brought her hand to the back of her son and gently pushed him forward, silently suggesting him to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Kuroo Tetsuro,” the boy shyly said. Kenma scanned the boy, trying to read whatever he could from his posture, his clothing, his backpack. He looked at his mom for guidance as to what to even do.

“They just moved in next door, Kenma. And Tetsuro is only a grade older than you, isn’t that right Tetsuro?” his mother explained.

The older boy just nodded; eyes boring into the floor. Kenma froze, he hadn’t really met anyone who was as shy as he was, everyone at school was loud and rowdy. While it was slightly comforting to find someone who was like him, he wasn’t sure how to approach the situation. 

“Hey, Kenma?” Auntie Mayumi said to grab his attention. Her hand rested on the shoulder of the other boy. “My Tetsuro doesn’t have anyone to walk to school with, and he’s new so he doesn’t really know anyone. Do you think you could walk to school with him and be his friend?”

He thought for a moment and looked at his mom for help. Nodding lightly, his mom pushed him gently towards the older boy. “Okay,” he mumbled, eyes avoiding the intense stare of the raven-haired boy. 

Their moms sent them off to Kenma’s room so the two could talk in the front room in peace. Kenma’s small hand grasped the door handle of his room and opened it. In the corner of the room was his bed, neatly made with his GameCube controller on it. On the floor of his room, was a small tv his parents had put in his room when they upgraded to a bigger one, on the screen was Super Mario Sunshine- A game that was just released that summer. A small bookshelf was sitting in the opposite corner of his bed, a few books, but mostly holding video game cases.

Sensing the awkward air in the room, Kenma spoke up. “Do you- uh, do you play any video games?” Kuroo just looked at him and stood there awkwardly. Now it felt even more awkward than before. “I have a couple of multi-player games we could play. Do you know how to use a controller?” Kenma suggested, holding out the controller to the older boy. Hesitantly, Kuroo grabbed the controller and nodded.

“My cousins have a GameCube and I played whenever I went to their house,” he said, his voice still quiet. Kenma felt a small wave of relief, not wanting to have to teach this random kid how to play video games.

Scratching the back of his head, Kenma thought for a moment. “I- uh, I have Super Smash Bros if you wanna play. Or you could watch me play. Whatever you want,” he proposed.

“Okay, I know how to play that game.” Kenma went over to a small bucket holding video game controllers and grabbed another controller for the GameCube and plugged it in. Once setting the game up, they began to play.

Kuroo had chosen to play as Mewtwo while Kenma opted for Kirby, something more his style. And while Kenma had expected Kuroo to not be that good since he wasn’t regularly playing like Kenma was, he was overwhelmed. After ten matches, Kuroo had managed to beat him in every single one.

“How- how are you so good at this?” Kenma said in disbelief, eyes wide as he looked at Kuroo. 

Shrugging in response, Kuroo just continued on selecting the stage and starting the next round. And for some reason, Kenma let him not answer. While it was a bit frustrating, it was a nice challenge.

An hour later, when Kuroo’s mom came to collect the boy from Kenma’s room, she found them in a fit of giggles, fighting each other on the screen. 

Turns out for Kenma, Kuroo Tetsuro was very clingy. Once the two had established a comfortable friendship, he opened himself to Kenma and they would play video games any chance they could get. He would knock on their door every morning and wait for Kenma so they could go to school together. On weekends, Kuroo would come over and they’d play video games in his room, and while somedays his mom would practically push the two out the door, desperate for her son to get some sun and exposure to nature, or other days, he’d refuse Kuroo- insisting he’s tired. While the boys became best friends, so did their mothers. They would often drag the boys along to go shopping together, most of the time consisting of Kenma playing Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening on his Game Boy and Kuroo right behind his shoulder, watching. 

One day, however, his mother dressed him in a sweater and a beanie and dragged him out of the house into the crisp winter air. It hadn’t snowed yet this year, but the winter frost still clouded their windows and the crisp frozen grass still crunched beneath their shoes.

“I hope you really like where we’re going, Kenma,” his mother said with a smile as they boarded the local bus. He swiftly glanced at her and averted his gaze back to his game.

After not receiving a response, she continued. “Tetsuro and Auntie Mayumi are meeting us there, isn’t that exciting?” At the mention of the older boy, Kenma felt a twinge of excitement. For the past month, Kenma was somewhat confused by the older boy, but Kuroo had slowly grown on him. He shook off the feeling and focused back on the game. 

Thirty minutes later, Kenma found himself in front of a tall counter while his mother digs through her purse for her wallet.

“I know it’s in here somewhere- ah, here it is! We need an adult size 6 and a children’s size 4.” Kenma’s eyes roamed around the building, his eyes catching the store at the front of the building.

In the windows of the storefront, there were mannequins wearing sports gear and holding big sticks. He quickly lost interest and looked around a little bit more, hoping to see Kuroo. Instead of Kuroo, he saw a young teenage girl in a red leotard and leggings walking to a snack machine and purchase a few snacks. What he noticed the most, were her white skates. His mom had handed him his pair of rental skates and compared to the girl’s skates, his looked very ugly. 

He tugged on his mom’s sleeve and pointed his finger towards the girl. “Why are her skates really nice?”

A familiar voice answered his question. “She’s probably a figure skater, so she needs really nice skates in order to do that!”

“Ah, Mayumi!” Kenma’s head whipped around to see his mother wrap an arm around the other woman and give her a hug. Kuroo stood next to his mother, holding a pair of skates similar to Kenma’s, as he offered a small wave.

“I haven’t been here in ages, not since I gave up figure skating,” Mayumi mentioned as she tied her skates. They were all sitting on bleachers as they got ready to go on the ice. Kenma sat there in frustration as he tried tying his skates, but no matter what he did they always became uncomfortable and hard on his feet. He heard his mom continue her conversation with Auntie Mayumi.

A pair of hands grabbed the shoelaces from his hands. “Kenma, is this your first-time skating?” Kuroo asked as he tied Kenma’s skates for him.

“Yeah.”

“Have you been rollerblading, then?”

He shook his head. Kuroo gaped at him and suddenly, Kenma felt embarrassed at the fact that someone as old as he is wasn’t experienced like Kuroo was. 

Kuroo must have read his expression and he knelt in front of the younger boy and helped him stand up from the bench. “It seems scary and hard at first, but I promise I can teach you. You can hold on to my arm, so you don’t fall, okay?” Kuroo said with his crooked smile plastered on his face. At the sound of his words, Kenma’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked to the side, a reddish tint blushing his cheeks.

“Kenma, Tetsuro! Let’s get on the ice!” Kuroo’s mother called from the gate of the skating rink. Kuroo helped Kenma slowly walk to the edge of the skating rink and quickly caught the boy when his balance wavered. 

“Thank you,” he murmured quietly. Kuroo smiled again, this time the smile reached his eyes.

“Come on, let's go!”

Seconds after stepping onto the ice, Kenma found himself clinging onto Kuroo’s arm and his mother’s sleeve.

“I wanna get off,” Kenma breathed, eyes wide and face flushed. In total, he’d fallen five times and they hadn’t even gone one lap around the rink. He felt a rush of embarrassment seep through his bones as he watched other skaters glide across the ice with ease. His knees wobbled and he hunched forward as he was practically being dragged by his friend and his mother. In front of the three skaters, was Kuroo’s mother, Mayumi, as she skated backwards gracefully and smiled at the group. She switched the direction of her skating and came to a halt in front of Kenma. 

“Instead of trying to push your skates forward, try pushing back, okay? And maybe stand a little taller, that might help you skate better,” Miyama pointed out to the young boy, helping him stand straighter. Kenma slipped as he tried to fix his posture, tumbling down to his knees for the umpteenth time, but once he was able to stand properly again, he slowly began to move his feet again. He stumbled a bit at the beginning, but suddenly his legs clicked with the ice. Like his body and feet understood the ice. Once he was more confident in his movements, he let go of Kuroo’s arm and went off on his own.

He could not describe it. The crisp cold air on his face, the sound of skates hitting the ice, the way the air blew in his face as he skated around the rink, a small giggle leaving his lips, not even waiting for the others.

_This feels flying._

And for the first time in months, Kenma smiled.


	2. badbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It feels like flying  
> but maybe we're dying."

March 2012

“Kuroo- I _will_ leave you here.”

“You wouldn’t.” He’s right, Kenma would never leave Kuroo. He hates how vulnerable Kuroo makes him feel nowadays. Pulling out his PSP, he switches it on as he waits for Kuroo to close the practice room he was using. The others had already packed up and left, leaving Kuroo to do the rest himself. Kuroo didn’t mind, he enjoyed the extra time alone with Kenma; but Kenma didn’t know that. The younger would often tell Kuroo’s bandmates to help with closing, but Kuroo insisted he was fine, knowing the others had part-time jobs to get too. Kenma’s eyes briefly flicker away from the screen to watch Kuroo put his black Fender guitar into its case and zip up the sides. Kuroo flicks the light switch off and holds the door open for Kenma.

“Your highness,” Kuroo bows. Kenma scoffs and rolls his eyes at him as he passes through the door, eyes focusing back on his game.

“You’re not funny.”

Kuroo didn’t reply, just lightly ruffling the back of Kenma’s long bleached hair.

“Lollipop?” Kuroo held out a lollipop in front of Kenma’s face, offering up the small candy. After replying with the shake of his head, Kuroo unwrapped it and plopped it into his mouth. They continued their journey from the small studio in their high school’s music room to the bus stop that would take them to the skating rink a few kilometers south.

“Got your skates?” Kuroo asked, swiping his bus pass as he boarded the vehicle.

“I only forgot them once, Kuro. Three years ago,” Kenma’s cat-like eyes were still focused on his game as he did the same.

Kuroo sighed as he played with the lollipop in his mouth. “Just making sure, kitten,” the pet-name Kuroo had appointed Kenma back when they were younger.

_“You look so much like a cat!” Kuroo smiled as he saw. His parents had taken him to a store specifically for Halloween, and while Kenma had looked at every costume, not one of them fit him or interested him, so his parents improvised and put him in a pair of black coveralls on top of a black long sleeve shirt, a headband with cat ears on them, and drew whiskers on his face using his mother’s eyeliner._

_Kenma had opposed the look after seeing the results, unsure of how he felt being something like a cat for Halloween instead of a vampire or a lion. But nevertheless, his mother dragged him out the door and knocked on the door next to theirs. Kuroo had dressed up as a pirate, sporting an eye patch with a sword and a hook in his hands._

_After the comment from Kuroo, Kenma’s face turned a pale shade of pink. “Really? I think I look weird,” he mumbled off. Kuroo shook his head profusely, going to touch Kenma’s cat ears on top of his head._

_“No, no, no,” Kuroo insisted. “Your eyes look like cat eyes and it makes you look like a cute little kitten!”_

_And thus, the nickname was born. Kitten._

They don’t speak another word on the bus, Kenma too preoccupied with his game and Kuroo staring out the window at the scenery passing by. Sitting in the loud silence, they distract themselves from what awaits them. The fact that Kenma is moving to Canada to train. The fact that Kuroo must stay here and finish high school without his best friend. The fact that they are both desperately in love with each other but both won’t say a thing.

The silence terrifies them.

After Kenma skated for the first time when he was six, Kuroo’s mother, Mayumi, insisted on getting Kenma in classes.

“He’s a natural and he has a crazy amount of potential. I can see it,” she had said.

Not only was Mayumi eager to get him in classes, Kenma would not stop talking about the ice. He’d ask his mother at least once a day if they could go back to skating. His mother was just as eager as well, hoping to find an activity for Kenma that would help his social anxiety.

He tried to play a little hockey but immediately shied away from how interactive it was. Not to mention how much taller the other kids on the team were. They even tried to see if Speed Skating was for Kenma, but it did not click with him at all. It seemed so boring and he didn’t like the coach or the idea of it in general.

After two failed attempts to find something he liked, his mother finally signed up for a group figure skating class. There were other kids his age and some even younger on the ice. While they all tried to balance themselves on the ice and stayed in groups near the grown-ups in the fear that they would fall, Kenma immediately glided around the rink without any hesitation. The cold air felt so good on his skin and the sharp cuts on the ice sounded so nice. Auntie Mayumi had taught him how to skate backwards the second time they came to the rink as a group and he loved doing it. He loved every breath of it. The feeling of his feet gliding across the ice distracted him and he didn’t even notice when an older man approached his mom, their discussion muted by the echoes of the ice, their eyes trained on him as he skated on the ice.

A few days later, his mom told him that they were moving him to an intermediate figure skating class. It was the most excited Kenma had been since he got his Game Boy Color.

And now he was here, ten years later, skating professionally for Japan. He had already competed in Junior competitions in Japan along with winning medals in his first two Junior Grand Prix Finals. The only difference with this year is that he would be leaving Japan to go train for his Senior debut in Toronto. And he was leaving in two days.

His soon to be coach, Coach Nekomata was already inside the rink, when they arrived, speaking to the owner of the skating rink. From a distance, Kenma could see the light chuckle leave the old man through his shoulders; he assumed the conversation was a lighthearted one. Kenma left the area and followed Kuroo, who was already lacing up his skates. Without even being close to the boy, he could hear the soft humming of one of the songs Kuroo’s band was working on.

When Kuroo began his first year at high school, he and the other two people he met started a band. Yaku played bass, Kai on drums, and Kuroo on guitar and vocals. And while Kuroo was hesitant about joining the band, knowing that it was going to take away time from hanging out with Kenma, he still went with it and always made time for the younger. Something that Kenma quietly appreciated. 

Kenma almost ran to the ice, desperate to start skating while Kuroo followed behind, watching fondly. The second Kenma’s blade hit the ice, it was like his lungs could finally breathe. Etching marks into the ice felt like etching marks into his soul. The simplicity, the freedom he felt from skating was something he had never experienced from games or family or friends.

To Kenma, skating felt like flying.

“Daydreaming again, kitten?” Kenma’s face blushing at the pet name as his head whipped around to see Kuroo leaning against the side of the rink, his striking hazel eyes watching him intently.

“Well, not intentionally,” the blond replied. His eyes zeroed in on the hair tie on Kuroo’s wrist.

Kuroo peeled the hair tie off of his wrist, offering it up to Kenma. “Need the hair tie?”

Kenma glided to where Kuroo was standing and sharply cut his skates to stop. Once Kuroo handed him the hair tie, he gathered his long hair into a ponytail and wrapped the tie around it, letting the hair at the front frame his face. He tightened it and swiftly strode back onto the ice.

“Gonna do some jumps for me, kitten?” Kuroo yelled across the ice, smirk evident in his voice. Kenma smiled, promptly ignored him, and started gaining speed on the ice.

 _“A quadruple salchow.”_ He thought.

His toe picked the ice and he flew up in the air, his arms coming close to hug his body, and as soon as he went up, he came back down and gracefully landed on the ice, his arms spreading out to balance himself. Kenma always loved the way the collision of ice and skates sounded whenever he landed a jump. As he continued skating on the ice, he could hear his friend clapping and whistling on the sidelines. He continued skating for a while, doing a jump here and there to warm up.

Eventually, a voice called out to him. “Kenma!”

He halted a bit to see his Coach call him over where Kuroo was as well. He started heading over as he replied, “Yes, Coach?”

He rested his arms on the ledge beside Kuroo.

“Are you ready to head out tomorrow?”

“I- I guess,” he answered, voice unsure.

He knew he was going to Toronto. His parents had talked to him about it and finalized details nearly six months prior and while he was completely ready to go and spend the next few years training there, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t afraid of it. Afraid of leaving the only place he had known, his home, his friends, his parents, Aunt Mayumi. More than that, he was afraid to leave Kuroo. As much as he wanted to confess to Kuroo, he knew that it was too late. Long-distance relationships never work out, especially if Kenma is going to focus on his career 24/7. And plus, Kuroo would probably reject him anyways, Kuroo frequently talked about girls that were on TV or in his class. Kuroo was straight and probably would be grossed out if Kenma even did confess to him. Confessing to Kuroo was probably the quickest way to get rid of their relationship, which was the opposite of what Kenma wanted. Was Kuroo going to find another best friend? Was he going to forget Kenma? Were they going to stop talking and pretend their entire friendship never existed? Was he ever going to see Kuroo ever again? Was he ever going to hear Kuroo call him ‘kitten’ again? That is what terrified him. That is what made him scared to leave.

Coach Nekomata interrupted his thoughts, clearing his throat. “You hesitated. Are you sure you’re ready to go?”

Kenma stole a look at Kuroo who was staring back at him, hazel eyes expectant of an answer.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. I’m just nervous,” He shrugged, suddenly shy from the stares of the other two.

“It’s okay to be nervous, Kenma. You just have to remember that this is going to prepare you for your Senior debut and for the rest of your skating career, okay? The next few years will be hard and different than you have experienced before, but you have a whole team of people and supporters on your side to help you every day. So, I hope you can put your trust in me and trust me to take care of you and help you thrive in Toronto,” Nekomata assured with confidence. “And plus, you can visit home whenever you’d like.”

“And hey,” Kuroo interrupted. “If you don’t visit me at least once a season, I will come over there and find you myself,” he said as he lightly ruffled Kenma’s hair. Kenma swatted his hand away and huffed a breath. After taking a couple of breaths and thinking about everything in the surprisingly comfortable silence, Kenma finally spoke with confidence.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

It was late in the afternoon, the sun setting behind them as they walked from the bus stop to their houses. Coach Nekomata had sent Kenma home early, nearly scolding him for practicing when they were supposed to rest up for their flight tomorrow.

“Hey so, uh-”

“What, Kuroo? You keep stuttering.”

Kuroo let out a strangled sound followed by a heavy sigh. “My parents are out of town, and there’s beer in the fridge, and I know this is the last night here before you leave and you need to rest, but do you wanna get drunk until we pass out? As like a sendoff?” Kuroo rambled out. To be honest, Kenma had never seen Kuroo in such a frantic state. Stuttering, flustered, nervous, unconfident. It only made Kenma feel unsure and nervous as well. Kuroo was always his rock, his foundation, almost his life-force. Kuroo always took care of Kenma, always made sure he was active and not staying holed-up in his room. Seeing Kuroo like this, made him feel weird.

“I guess,” he mumbled. Kuroo’s face brightened at the answer and he threw his arm around Kenma as they walked from the bus stop to Kuroo’s home. The sun was setting, and the sky bled into a beautiful purple sky. Of course, being in Tokyo meant that no stars were visible in the night sky but even more beautiful were the clouds. Shades of pink and purple highlighted the clouds, complimenting the orange and purple colors of the sunset. For the first time in a while, Kenma didn’t feel the urge to play video games. He wanted to capture the last few hours he had with undoubtedly, the most important person in his life. And tell him before it’s too late.

_“Tell him now.”_

“Um, Kuro?” he said, still stalking behind the other.

The raven-haired boy stopped walking and turned to look at Kenma. “Yeah, what’s up?” Raising his head, Kenma looked into Kuroo’s hazel eyes. Fear hit him straight in the stomach.

“Never mind, sorry,” he shook his head, apologizing. He could feel Kuroo’s eyes on him and he could imagine what emotion would show on Kuroo’s face if he looked back up to him. Probably concern but the anxiousness in his stomach told him it’d be disappointment running in his eyes. Disappointed in Kenma for not telling him the truth.

“Did you want chicken? Cause Chicken and Beer always go together, right? Is that what you were going to ask me?”

“Oh, yeah, uh sure,” he stumbled with his words, still shocked at how close he was to confessing. _Fuck, why was he even confessing?_ He is leaving tomorrow morning anyways, so _what’s the point in telling Kuroo that he’s in love with him?_

“Alright, let’s go then,” Kuroo smiled and started walking in the direction of their favorite chicken place.

_I just want to tell you._

_I just want you to ask me to stay._

_I would stay for you._

And now they sit around the coffee table in the living area of the Kuroo household drinking beer and eating chicken. The sound of the television is in the background, playing some late-night reality TV show they’ve seen a million times. And Kenma. Well, Kenma was lightweight. And after his second can of beer, he was pretty much gone. Kuroo was on his fourth and doing pretty well; he had done this before and knew his limit, and while he still felt a little drunk, he wasn’t as mentally gone as Kenma was.

Kuroo giggled at the sight of the younger, his blonde hair in a halo around his head as his forehead rested on the table.

“Never doinggg thisss againnn-” Kenma slurred, a small pout at the end of his voice. “My head hurts, Kuro.” Kuroo giggled as he watched Kenma lightly pound his head on the table.

“That’s not gonna help, kitten. You’re just drunk, you need to sober up a bit,” he lightly laughed between phrases.

Kuroo’s fingers softly combed through the blonde strands, brushing past Kenma’s ears and neck and making the younger boy slightly shiver from the touch.

A moment of silence then- “Mm, pretty,” Kuroo muttered under his breath.

Kenma hummed and gently nuzzled his head into the touch, purring as Kuroo brushed his thumb across his cheek. However, while the gesture was sweet and comforting to Kenma, he couldn’t ignore the itching though in the back of his mind.

_Ask me to stay._

Right as he thought those words, Kuroo flinched back.

“I can’t, Kenma. You know I can’t ask you to do that.” While Kuroo’s words were soft and gentle, the words still stung.

 _Fuck._ He had said it out loud because he was drunk and there was no filter over his mouth.

“Please, please ask me to stay,” he hopelessly pleaded, grabbing Kuroo’s arms and shaking them lightly, eyes desperately searching through Kuroo’s eyes for any kind of answer. “I would stay for you, please I’d only stay for you.”

Kuroo hesitated, his face twisted in countless emotions, struggling to come up with an answer. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that, Kitten.” A sympathetic look was written across Kuroo’s face as he cupped Kenma’s face. “I’m so sorry.”

Kenma, distressed at Kuroo’s rejection, slapped the latter’s hand away and stumbled his way up. His balance wavered a bit as he stood, his head pounding as he did so, and tried to walk towards the door.

Kenma’s sudden movements startled Kuroo and he frantically stood up and chased Kenma to the door. “Kenma! Wait- wait Kenma, what are you doing?” Kuroo begged, standing to catch the younger as he stumbled his way through the living room. Finally grabbing a hold of Kenma’s arm, he spun the boy around to face him, only to see Kenma’s face in a mess of tears. His heart stung at the sight. At the feeling of knowing that Kenma was crying because of him.

“ _Kitten_ ,” He breathed. Kenma could barely feel his face, but he knew that he was desperately crying, trying to release all the emotions that had built up over the past three years when he realized he was in love with Kuroo. Voice breaking, Kenma fell into Kuroo’s arms, as he silently sobbed from all the stress. He felt Kuroo guide them to the floor, eventually sitting between his legs as Kuroo held and rocked him.

“Hey,” Kuroo gently muttered, “Hey, look at me, Kenma.” After wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his hoodie, he looked up to meet Kuroo’s concerned eyes. Kuroo’s handsome yet gorgeous golden eyes. “Talk to me, Ken.”

Except Kenma didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to speak. He didn’t even want to think.

So he didn’t.

Before Kenma could even comprehend what he was about to do, he dove into Kuroo and kissed him. Kenma’s hands grabbed Kuroo’s head desperately to bring them closer to each other. Kuroo on the other hand, let out a small yelp at the sudden attack and did what only felt right; kissing Kenma back.

Kenma broke apart for a breath of air and went back in to kiss Kuroo again, but Kuroo covered his mouth with his hands, pushing Kenma away.

“Kenma- Ken, we need to talk about this,” Kuroo pleaded in a desperate attempt to sober Kenma up. Repeatedly shaking his head, Kenma pouted at the suggestion.

“I just want you,” he breathed into Kuroo’s mouth. And the last ounce of self-control Kenma had gone out the window. He clutched the front of Kuroo’s red polyester t-shirt, his fingers pinching and twisting the fabric, and pulled Kuroo towards him and their lips met again. Finally reciprocating the kiss, Kuroo’s arm wrapped around Kenma’s small waist, pulling him onto his lap as Kenma tilted his head only to kiss him again. Kenma’s hands were wandering all over the taller’s arms, back, waist, frantically wanting to feel every part of Kuroo he could. Wanting to experience all of Kuroo before it was too late. Almost as if Kuroo was going to disappear at a moment’s notice.

Kuroo’s composure was slowly slipping, and while this isn’t how he had originally planned on kissing Kenma for the first time, his subconscious was drunk on the feeling of Kenma. Kuroo kissed back with all his strength, tongue prodding Kenma’s lips, eliciting a sigh from the younger. Their lips tasted like bitter beer and greasy chicken, but they paid no attention to that, craving each other nonetheless. Quickly slipping his tongue into Kenma’s warm awaiting mouth, he let out a soft groan as Kenma eagerly grasped the hair on his nape. Kenma was making small sounds, almost whimpering into their heated kisses and all of it started pooling in the bottom of Kuroo’s stomach. Eventually, Kenma’s wandering hands found their way to the bottom of Kuroo’s shirt, lifting it as he hands wandered underneath it. The sudden motion got Kuroo to come out of his greedy state and he broke out of the kiss.

“Kenma,” he said, panting, “Kenma, baby, listen to me.” His hands moved to push Kenma’s shoulders away. Kenma eventually came out of his lust-filled state and was able to look Kuroo in the eyes. “Kitten, I need you to tell me what you want, okay? I don’t want to do something you’re going to regret tomorrow.”

Kenma eyes watered. All he wanted was for Kuroo to ask him to stay. Ask him to be with him and never leave him. He wanted Kuroo to love him every breath he took.

 _If I just keep kissing him, he’ll never want me to leave. Yes, yes that’s it._ If Kenma is able to confess his feelings and have Kuroo reciprocate them, then Kuroo won’t want him to leave. Kuroo will ask him to stay.

But then why was Kuroo telling him that sleeping with him will be a regret later on. He would never regret something like finally having Kuroo to himself.

“You,” he whispered, looking down at his fumbling hands. “I just want you.” Kuroo cleared his throat and looked at Kenma with wide eyes.

“You want me? To hold you? Or…” Kuroo asked, his voice trailing out near the end. Kenma let out a low whine and ground his hips into Kuroo’s, trying to get his point across. The motion left Kuroo speechless and a choked sigh left his throat. “Fuck, okay. Okay,” his voice breathless. Kenma felt Kuroo’s strong arms wrap around his waist as he lifted him up off the floor. His arms wrapped around Kuroo’s neck as his legs hooked around his friend’s waist. Without a second to waste, Kuroo’s lips were met with Kenma’s and they made out while the older one was trying to navigate through the living room into his bedroom.

While Kenma was practically in euphoria, the back of his head screamed at him.

_This isn’t going to make him ask me to stay, is it?_

Kenma woke up, a pounding headache and sore muscles attacking his body. He finally was able to sit up, groaning as he rubbed his eyes.

Next to him lay Kuroo, his hair pointing in wild directions and his bare back turned to him with a light blanket draped over his lower half. He looked down at himself, noticing he was naked and covered himself quickly, embarrassed to even comprehend why he was naked. His eyes scattered across the room, seeing his clothes strewn on the floor of the room, next to Kuroo’s. As soon as he saw the clothes, the events of the previous night ran through his mind and panic spread like wildfire in his veins.

_No, no, no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen._

His breathing quickened and he clutched his chest.

_Kuroo didn’t ask him to stay._

Dread began to filter into his soul. Kuroo probably never loved him. He probably had sex with him out of pity. He probably wanted Kenma to leave and never come back. Tears swam in his eyes as Kenma realized all of this. It was probably for the best if he did leave and never come back. If he just left Kuroo’s life and let Kuroo leave his.

The blond pushed the sheets to the side and gingerly got out of bed. Every inch of his body was sore from last night’s activities and he groaned. His hand pushed on his back for support as he wobbled over to where his clothes were. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of here, go to the airport and fly as far away as he can. He needed to forget this ever happened, and if worse comes to worst, he needed to forget Kuroo.

The thought of forgetting Kuroo made tears fall onto his cheeks. His best friend of almost ten years, his first love, his soulmate. Forcing himself to forget the most important person of his life, mentally tore Kenma to shreds. He bit his hands to stifle his cries so he wouldn’t wake up the other and put on his clothes.

After getting fully dressed and stuffing everything in his bag, he took one last look into Kuroo’s bedroom. Secretly Kenma wished he could stay and wake up to Kuroo. Maybe Kuroo would smile at him and kiss him good morning. Maybe his fingers would trace faint lines into Kenma’s arms and trail back up to his face and kiss his forehead. Maybe he would ask Kenma to stay. Mellow sunlight streamed through the curtains covering Kuroo’s window, gracefully highlighting lines on Kuroo’s back. And Kuroo just slept there, oblivious that his best friend was grieving the loss of his best friend.

 _“I love you.”_ Kenma thought, longing to speak it out in the open. “ _I’m sorry, too.”_

And then he opened the door and left briskly, leaving only the faint smell of himself on Kuroo’s pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I added one tag to the work, (Implied Underage Sex). I literally have such a hard time writing smut cause I know people I know in real life will read this and it's just intimidating idk,,, I don't want my best friend reading it and being like 'damn, she wrote that'. yeah no, bro the embarrassment I would go through, yeah no. Also like ehhhhhh underage??? i don't wanna write that, so it's very heavily implied lmao. also yeah this is literally how I talk on my twitter all the time,,, i use commas a hell a lot.
> 
> I also took out a few tags, (self harm) just cause I started writing that, got a panic attack, and was like nope, not doing that so I tweaked the next few chapters to fit a different narrative. love that for my mental health. anyways, have a nice day!! I'll probably upload chapter 3 next week and it's probably gonna be shorter but whatever, college starts in like two weeks for me so after that there might be more time in between chapters, sorry,,,,


	3. A Piece of Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why can't I be like you?  
> I'm just nervous, dying inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// Panic Attack
> 
> Starts with "Right as Hinata turned around," and ends with "all of his senses finally shutting off."
> 
> Please please skip this if you are triggered by panic attacks!
> 
> I'll be updating every Thursday night, PST. :)

**January 2017**

“Kenma Kozume and his coach, Yasufumi Nekomata, eagerly wait to hear his final score. This score will determine his final placement in the Grand Prix Finals. Based on that performance and his score of 94.08 on his Short Programme, it’s highly likely he will claim gold this season.”

Kenma gripped his black kitten tissue box as he waited for the scores. He always had to bear through the grueling anxiety before scores were announced; an intense aura always shadowed over the entire arena and it always made Kenma shrink on the inside. Especially with all the pressure put on him by Japan and his fans, he  _ needs _ to score high.

The cut of a mic echoed throughout the arena. “194.08!” Relief left through his shoulders, air finally finding purchase within his lungs. “A new personal best for Kenma Kozume! And with that incredible score, he wins Gold!” He could hear the screams of his fans in the bleachers, his coach’s hand coming to pat him on the back as congratulations. “This is his third consecutive win at the Grand Prix Finals and personally, as one of his fans, I don’t expect anything less.”

The announcer moved on, speaking about Kenma’s other competitors and as soon as the cameraman gave him the signal that he was free to go, he gathered his bags and swiftly made his way backstage to the restroom. Along the way, several people gave their congratulations, Kenma bowing his head in appreciation as he passed by. And while Kenma looked elated at his accomplishment, on the inside he felt the exact opposite.

The announcer’s words echoed in his brain.  _ “I don’t expect anything less.”  _ Pressure from outside sources is always good for improvement and motivation. Kenma knew that. Kenma appreciated it. But it was slowly catching up to him. This last season was hard for him; in July he had sprained his ankle, then the cat he adopted died suddenly, and within every practice he had, he was constantly falling out of landings and making stupid mistakes. He had barely even qualified for the Finals, but he gathered himself together and pulled through—miraculously landing all of his jumps and placing first.

_ Shouldn’t they be disappointed? Shouldn’t they just tell him that he got lucky? That he barely managed to pass since other skaters missed a few jumps? Why weren’t they surprised?  _ He had had such a difficult season and they still were not surprised.

_You can’t surprise them anymore, Kenma._ _They’re going to get bored. They’re going to leave you. They’re not going to ask you to stay. You aren’t even surprising yourself, fuck, get a grip Kenma._

A high-pitched squeal interrupted his thoughts. “Kenma, oh my god, that was incredible.” In front of him stood Shouyou Hinata, another figure skater from Japan and his best friend. He had met Hinata in Toronto about a year after he moved there, the younger boy moving to Toronto from Japan to train as well. Hinata hadn’t placed high enough to qualify this year for the Grand Prix Finals but still followed him to Barcelona to watch Kenma compete. He was always one of Kenma’s biggest supporters inside and outside the rink. The bright orange-haired boy shoved a large bouquet of flowers into Kenma’s chest as he rambled on and on about his favorite parts of Kenma’s free skate.

Kenma let out a small chuckle, shifting his mood to suit Hinata’s enthusiasm. “Thanks, Shouyou.” He glanced over at the restrooms, Hinata’s eyes following his.

“Oh my god, you probably have to fix up a bit, I’m sorry, Kenma!” Hinata apologized as Kenma shook his head.

“You’re fine, I just gotta go. Um,” He paused mid-thought, staring at his hands. “Could you take this back to coach?” He asked, handing him his stuffed kitten tissue box.

“Of course!” Hinata started skipping down to where his coach was. “Oh, wait!” He watched as Hinata skidded across the floor to stop himself. “How about we ditch the after-party and go get some dinner? I know you don’t exactly like crowds, so I just figured-”

Kenma paused him, his emotion’s patience slipping. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll see you tonight, then.” Hinata gave him a small wave and started heading down the hall, his ginger hair bouncing lightly with every step.

Right as Hinata turned around, he booked for the bathroom and locked the door. Thankfully for Kenma, it was completely empty with each stall door open. Kenma slid down the door till he was sitting on the cold tile floor. A shaky breath left his lungs as he let his composure go. Tears began to flood his eyes as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to stop the uncomfortable prickling feeling around them.

_ Water. I need water. _

He shakily wrapped his arms around himself and forced his legs to lift him off the floor. He slowly walked towards the sinks where mirrors hung above them and put his bag on the counter. Splashing water on his face felt like nothing, his face succumbing to the numbness, the feeling spreading throughout his body. Finally glancing up at his face, Kenma saw a near-perfect image of himself, mascara a little fuzzy, but everything else was practically intact. His hair, his concealer, his image. It just made him feel worse than he was.  _ Why don’t I look how I feel? _ He could feel the familiar burn behind his eyes and his breath squeeze out of his lungs.

_ No, Kenma. You can’t cry, you have to go to the ceremony. _

He panted as he tried to take deep breaths to try to stop him from completely cracking from the pressure.  _ Breathe.  _ His hands hit the side of his head trying to get his body and mind in order.

_ You’re worthless, Kenma. They are bored of you already. Nobody will want you. _

“Shut up!” he yelled at himself, hands gripping his hair, his breath catching in his throat, choking him. And finally, like the crisp snap of skates hitting the ice, his shoulders heaved and he let out an excruciating sob. Shoulder violently shaking as he grabbed his chest, mouth agape in a silent scream. A silent cry to feel anything. To feel accomplished, feel happy, feel what everyone else was feeling for him. But all he could feel was pain, resentment for himself, failure. He’s felt like this ever since he left Tokyo and never looked back. He’s so tired of feeling this way. So tired of people not noticing. Not noticing anything.

_ God, he needed to feel something. _ But the water did nothing. The cold marble countertops did nothing. The sound of the air conditioning did nothing. He could slowly sense his mind slipping away as he hyperventilated, desperate to breathe and feel the intake of air. Vision gone blurry, he gripped the edges of the marble countertops

_ Nobody notices you, Kenma. Because you’re such a waste of space. _

Kenma’s internal thoughts were breaking the barrier he so greatly defended, all his inner thoughts attacking him recklessly, clouding him in an overwhelming sense of dread, crushing his chest with no mercy. He felt bile rise his throat as he clambered to the nearest stall, hurling his insides into the bowl, not stopping until he couldn’t catch his breath. Scratching at his throat, his state of panic relentlessly stole his breath, making him lightheaded and dizzy. Throwing his head over the bowl one final time to retch up anything left in his stomach, his eyesight started dotting on the edges, black trickling in to steal the light. Still desperately trying to find air, Kenma fell back against the frigid tiles of the bathroom floor, coughing to catch his breath. His arms wrapped around his legs, his body falling into a fetal position. Then his brain shut off. His eyes slowly closed, surrendering to the empty blackness of his mind; all of his senses finally shutting off.

__

“Yes, he’s at the hospital right now. Yes. No, press is not allowed in. Of course not, that’d cause a disaster.”

_ My head hurts. _

“I agree, Mei. I’ll make sure that happens. Mhm. Yeah, I’ll book us a flight right as soon as he wakes up.”

_ Mom.  _ He tried to open his eyes, the bright lights of the room making them water. He shut his eyes to avoid the painful sting.

“We don’t really know what happened, we just found him on the bathroom tile.” A pause. “We already checked for head damage, but nothing came up.” Another pause. “Yes, yes of course, I’ll ask him when he wakes up. I’ll tell him as well. Okay great, no problem, Mei. Alright, goodbye,” Nekomata hung up the phone and let out a heavy sigh.

Kenma swallowed, his throat was sore and felt like sandpaper. “Coach,” he squeaked out, his voice tiny and small. Nekomata met his gaze and gave a sympathetic smile.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?” Kenma hesitated, not sure of how he felt at the moment. His body and mind felt terribly weak, and his joints felt stiff and heavy. His mind felt numb and it was hard to think.

A single tear slipped down his cheek. “I-” he started, “I don’t know, Coach.” His face felt fuzzy as it reddened with the appearance of more tears. He grimaced as he hid his face in his hands, the stress of everything that day coming up to him.

Nekomata pulled his chair closer to the side of Kenma’s hospital bed and put his hand on Kenma’s shoulder. “Kenma,” he stopped, trying to form his words correctly. “Do you remember what happened?” He asked gently.

Kenma thought back to his free skate, his scoring, the news that he won the Grand Prix Final, talking to Hinata, and that was it. He tried to mentally grasp the memories that seemed so dim, but it was all a blur. Defeated, he shook his head, his eyes cast downward at his folded hands.

“Hinata found you passed out in one of the bathroom stalls.” His eyes flew open, as he recalled the panic attack in the bathroom. A whole wave of tears leaking from his eyes at the thought of what had happened earlier. And while Nekomata assured and promised Kenma that everything will be okay as he cried, Kenma still felt guilt wash over his body. He felt guilty for not taking care of himself, for probably messing up the Grand Prix Final Awards Ceremony, for letting Hinata, one of his closest friends that looked up to him, see him in such a ruined state.

Thankfully with the support of his Coach in the room, Kenma was able to stabilize his breathing and his crying to avoid another panic attack. “I’m sorry, Coach.” He choked out a small sob. “I’m so sorry.” He collapsed into the embrace of his mentor and Coach, one of the only father figures he has had in the past five years while he’s been away from home.

Coach released him from his arms when he finally gathered his composure together and cleared his throat. “Kenma, I’m putting you on break.” Kenma sat there, still in the thin hospital gown he woke up in, solemn. He expected this much. He hadn’t gone home in years, hadn’t taken a break since he had his Senior debut, he knew it was coming soon. “I’m booking a flight for you to go back home to Tokyo and stay with your parents.” He nodded. “If you want, I can see if Hinata wants to go with you, would you like that?” Another nod. “Okay.” Nekomata groaned as he lifted himself from the chair, “I’m going to go get a doctor and then we’ll get you out of here.”

He paused, hand on the door handle, and turned around to look at Kenma, who looked so pale and weak. “Kenma.” He waited until Kenma met his eyes. “We’ll get you help; I promise.” While Kenma had not even mentioned the cause of his fainting spell, Nekomata had a small suspicion of what was going on within Kenma’s inner emotions. After giving another soft smile, quite possibly the hundredth one since Kenma had woken up, Nekomata turned the handle and left the room, a soft click sounding off in the silence.

Clutching his suitcase in his hands, Kenma hurried down the massive halls of the airport, Hinata trailing behind him. He was almost sprinting, desperate to just grab a taxi and get out of the airport and ignore contact with as many strangers as possible. It wasn’t always this bad, but in airports, his anxiety seemed to skyrocket. Any time a large crowd appeared, and he was part of it, he couldn’t help but start panicking and rush towards the nearest clearing.

And that is what he was currently doing. Fleeing from the sea of photographers and fans that had been waiting for his arrival from Barcelona, and the homecoming of the world-famous ice skater that hadn’t stepped one foot inside his home country in over four years.

“Kenma, wait- wait up you’re going too fast!” Hinata gasped as he tried keeping up with the older figure skater. While Hinata had been best friends with Kenma for several years, he knew Kenma was typically a slow person except when he got on the ice- so seeing Kenma in such a frantic state worried him, but what worried him more was keeping up fast enough to avoid the slew of fangirls who had posters of Kenma photoshopped with cat ears and kittens plastered all over the sign. Screams echoed throughout the airport, followed by several shouts of Kenma’s name, photographers eager to get his attention.

Anxiety pooled in Kenma’s stomach. The pressure of all his fans—Kittens, as the media had named them—chasing him stressed him out. Finally escaping the confines of the building, he was able to grab a cab and shove Hinata inside, stumble the directions out of his mouth and collapse against the seat of the cab. He panted as he tried to catch his breath, one hand grasping his chest while the other tugged his scarf off his neck.

“Are you okay?” Kenma looked over to Hinata, who was in a similar state as he was in, eyes closed as he tried to steady his breathing.

“Fantastic,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Hinata shook his head, his bright orange hair softly bouncing as he relaxed into the cab seat and gave an exasperated grin. They sat in silence as they retrieved their breaths, light jazz music coming from the front of the cab.

Hinata was the first to break the silence. “You sure your parents are cool with me staying for a couple of days?” Even though Hinata had been eager to go home and visit his family in Miyagi, he insisted on staying with Kenma in Tokyo for a few days to make sure he was okay. Nekomata wasn’t the only person to notice how Kenma felt; Hinata had guessed a while back when he caught Kenma in the middle of a mild anxiety attack. It wasn’t severe, but seeing Kenma shake with each breath and pinched his eyes shut as he rubbed his hands up and down his arms. After that incident and noticing Kenma’s general behavior, his suspicions were confirmed. All Hinata was worried about after the Grand Prix Finals was the condition of his friend.

Kenma quickly checked his phone to confirm his answer for Hinata.

**From: Mom**

-Curry and Apple pie is ready for you and Hinata whenever you get here! <3

A soft smile crept upon his lips as he nodded. “She just texted. Curry and apple pie is waiting for us at home.”

“Awesome!” Hinata punched the air. Japanese Curry was always a good comfort meal and perfect for coming home from a long trip. And while Kenma’s appetite was never steady, rather irregular at most, he never passed up an opportunity to eat his mother’s home-made curry. “Ahhh, I bet your mom is really good at cooking.” He commented, rubbing his belly in anticipation.

The smile on Kenma’s face hadn’t disappeared. It finally hit him that he was going home. The brisk Tokyo air, his mother waiting for him at home. Everything felt so—so perfect.

“She is.” He promised.

A gust of wind hit Kenma in the face as he opened the door to his childhood home. The scent of curry hit him straight in the face and he gave a small sigh, content with how his day was going to end—curry and apple pie. He propped the door open as he let Hinata in and dragged his luggage through the door.

“Mom?” he sent out into the house. He heard a few small clangs and hurried footsteps as he made his way through the front room.

“Kenma! Oh, my baby!” his mom shrieked as she rushed to embrace him. Her warm arms wrapped around him tight, rocking him back and forth as he reciprocated the hug. While he was gone from home for years, his mother had become quite clingy whenever she visited him overseas. And now that he was home, he felt like she would never let him go from her line of sight. He sighed, relaxing in her arms as he buried his face into her shoulder. Even though he never was able to fully understand and show his feelings, his mother was able to draw that out of him, comforting him and helping him throughout every one of his troubles.

She finally let go of Kenma, wiping a line of tears from her face. She turned to Hinata, her smile bright. “You must be Hinata! I’m so glad you could stay with us for a few days!”

“Thank you so much for having me!” Hinata exclaimed, bowing deeply.

“Come on! Some people have come to see you!” She said, excitedly guiding him to the living space and the kitchen. Normally, he’d get anxious at the thought of any social event but as soon as Aunt Mayumi came into view, he worries were eased.

“Oh my, Kenma, Kenma, Kenma,” she said, pulling him into her embrace, hugging him tightly before letting go. “You’ve grown so much!” She cupped his face and looked into his eyes, smiling. “You’ve done so well.”

“Thank you, Auntie.” He looked over her shoulder and immediately froze.

_ Why was he here? _

Standing there, tall and confident. Black hair styled at awkward angles. Hazel dragon-like eyes.

_ Kuroo. _


	4. Circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seasons change and our love went cold
> 
> Feed the flame 'cause we can't let go

When Kenma’s mother, Aunt Mei, messaged Kuroo about Kenma’s sudden homecoming party, he almost declined the offer. And while Kuroo watched every performance and every competition, even attending a small dinner Aunt Mei put together to celebrate Kenma’s wins—all without the victor even present— Kuroo hadn’t spoken a word to Kenma since the night before he left for Canada.

Truth was, that Kuroo heard Kenma leave, hearing Kenma’s small hiccups turn into held-back sobs. Kuroo himself had to hold back tears, desperate to tell Kenma his feelings; desperate to tell Kenma he loved him. But that was too selfish. Telling Kenma to stay for him was the worst thing Kuroo could think of—halting the dream of his best friend because Kuroo wanted him to stay so he could love him was selfish.

So, Kuroo didn’t say anything.

And when a few months passed and Kenma hadn’t texted him or called him or anything, Kuroo tried to let him go. But Kuroo could never get over how beautiful Kenma looked on the ice. How graceful and elegant his figure flew in the air. How stunning his form melted across the ice. How lovely Kenma looked.

So Kuroo stayed in contact with Aunt Mei, just to stay in the loop about Kenma. She always invited him over for viewing parties whenever Kenma had a performance and Kuroo would always make time from his work just to be there. And when Aunt Mei went abroad to watch the competitions live, she always sent him a link to a live stream so he could watch it. And without fail, Kuroo would always watch, eyes trained on Kenma the entire time.

_ “Tetsuro, your mother is still coming, why can’t you? I bet Kenma would be so happy to see you.” _

“Ah, Aunt Mei. I’m not so sure about that,” he responded through the phone. He was gathering a few papers off of his desk, quickly stuffing them into his bag to be graded later. He looked out over the science lab, now empty, since school had ended a few hours prior.

_ “Sweetie, I don’t know what happened between you two, but please come? If not for Kenma, then just come to be with your mother. I know you don’t see her often.” _

He gave a small chuckle. “Auntie, I visit mom once a week. But—” he thought about it for a moment, eyes scanning the sunset light filtering throughout the room. “I guess I can find some time to come out and visit for a bit.” There was a bright squeal on the other side of the phone. Aunt Mei talked his ear off for awhile more, filling him in on the details of Kenma’s surprise party, and when he mentioned that a surprise party probably wasn’t a good idea for Kenma, she insisted that she had already told Kenma about the party and that he was fine with it. And with that, he shrugged it off and went along with her ramblings until they said their goodbyes over the phone.

Kuroo stared at the black screen of his phone, anxiety suddenly surfacing from the depths of his mind. He shook his head, what he needed right now was a distraction.

Kuroo had met Bokuto in his freshman year of college, and Akaashi in his second, and they immediately became the best of friends. Bokuto and Kuroo had similar majors; Bokuto majoring in Sports Sciences and Kuroo in Chemistry, so in the first few years they had taken their general education credits together and ended up rooming together throughout the rest of college. Akaashi was Bokuto’s highschool friend who ended up tagging along with the older two once he got to college as well.

And for a while, to be quite honest, Akaashi was the third wheel, always following Bokuto and Kuroo around campus and to parties and whatnot, until Bokuto and Akaashi started dating in their third year. After that, Kuroo was booted to third wheel but the three of them never wanted to be apart from one another after they had formed such a tight bond.

So when Kuroo texted the group chat, asking to hang out and get a little tipsy, Bokuto showed up 10 minutes later on his front doorstep, vodka in hand and Akaashi in tow with fried chicken. Ah, they knew him so well.

“Hey, hey, hey, bitches!” Bokuto yelled as he entered the apartment. Akaashi lightly swatted his head, giving Bokuto an unamused glare before looking back to Kuroo.

“Hey bro, sorry about him, he got a little too excited when you mentioned alcohol,” Akaashi said as they set the things down in the kitchen.

Kuroo laughed, “No, you’re fine. Do you wanna start some shots while I set up some karaoke?” Akaashi nodded and started working on opening the vodka.

Akaashi felt Bokuto behind him. “I haven’t been to a party in so long, Akaashi,” Bokuto pouted, as he gave his boyfriend a back hug, his head resting in the nook of his neck. Akaashi swatted him away, starting to set up a line of shots ready for the three of them.

“You’re an adult, Bokuto, so of course you aren’t going to go to frat parties every weekend like you used to,” he poured the vodka into the shot glasses and set the bottle down. “Alright, then. Kuroo, shots are ready!” he called out to his friend. At the sound of alcohol, Kuroo rushed to the kitchen, eager to feel the sharp burn of alcohol sliding down his throat.

“Fuck yeah, on three?” Kuroo suggested, grabbing one of the shots and gently clinking it against the other’s shots. On the count of three, they all brought the drink to their lips, quickly swallowing the liquor, feeling the burn in their throats. Bokuto let out an exclamation, eyes blinking wide as he shook his head lightly, the alcohol buzzing in his head. Kuroo looked at the other two, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Karaoke?”

Five shots later and Bokuto was half-naked, somehow singing the ‘Uso’ from Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood in such a furious way, while Akaashi was huddled under a pile of blankets on the couch, opting to sleep instead of participating in Karaoke. Kuroo was Bokuto’s hype man, slightly bouncing as he hyped Bokuto up, the alcohol finally giving him a satisfying buzz, numbing his sense of rationality.

“Hatase nakatta yakusoku wo idaite, futari arukidasu” Bokuto screamed into the microphone, holding the last note out until the song was over. Flopping down on the floor, Kuroo and Bokuto laughed loudly, clutching their stomachs as they howled.

“Hah,” Kuroo breathed, catching his breath after Bokuto’s wild performance. “Why did you go so hard, bro? It’s not even that crazy of a song.” He waited for a response but was soon met with Bokuto’s loud snoring. He gave a small chuckle, finding tonight’s events amusing. In the background, the karaoke machine had automatically played the next song—Circles by Post Malone. He let his head rest on the seat of the couch, eyes glazing over in his drunken haze as the soft beat and melody filled his head.

**_I say so_ **

**_I knew that this was doomed from the get-go_ **

His lips mouthed the lyrics, his mind traveling to another headspace, reminiscing the last time he saw Kenma.

**_You thought that it was special, special_ **

Kuroo knew that Kenma was drunk. Kuroo knew that Kenma didn’t even mean the words  _ “I just want you.”  _ But he still took and took because of the false belief that Kenma wanted him and loved him.

**_But it was just the sex though, the sex though_ **

Kenma was probably stressed and worried, he probably just wanted Kuroo to help relieve it. Kenma probably just wanted a simple one night stand, no strings attached but Kuroo thought so differently. And while he wanted to show Kenma how badly he was in love with him, Kenma wanted a one night stand—nothing that would help Kuroo’s case.

**_And I still hear the echoes (the echoes)_ **

Kuroo could still hear his quiet little whimpers, the gentle moans that left his mouth. But even worse, he could hear the heart-breaking sobs that left Kenma’s chest, his little feet walking across his floor, the door closing shut.  _ I wish that I could have said something, anything, to just make it better. _

With the television still lit up in the room and Bokuto’s heavy snores, Kuroo drifted to sleep, dreaming of blonde hair, perfect cat eyes, and the softest voice.

__

18 hours later, Kuroo finds himself seated at the table in the Kozume household, right in front of the man he lost five years ago. When Kenma had walked in through the door, Kuroo struggled to hold his ground and not hide from him in the bathroom. While Kuroo had watched the figure skater on television and had burned every inch of his figure to his brain, Kenma looked so—gone. His eyes looked blank and his face was a few shades too pale and the confidence he normally held on the ice was non-existent as Kenma was engulfed in an oversized hoodie with his eyes cast down at his food. In front of the skater was his full bowl of Japanese curry, barely touched, the chopsticks laying on top of the bowl. Hinata, the orange-haired skater that Kuroo had recognized, was sitting right beside Kenma and was shoveling his third bowl of curry down his throat.

Hinata nudged Kenma with his elbow, mouth still crammed with rice and curry. “MMng, Aren't you going to, mm, eat your food?” Kuroo watched Hinata point to Kenma’s full plate, his eyes flickering over to Kenma. His blonde hair gently swayed with the shake of his head.

“I’m not that hungry anymore,” he replied softly.

“Uh uh,” Aunt Mei interrupted, her spoon scooping up some of Kenma’s curry and bringing it up to her son’s face. “Kenma, you need to eat. And I made it just for you, too! Just have one bite,” she pleaded. Kenma reluctantly opened her mouth, letting the spoonful of food in, his eyes almost shooting daggers at his mother. Kuroo knew that Kenma never had a normal appetite, he had been that way since they were kids. But Kenma’s appetite completely contrasted how Aunt Mei had told Kuroo how excited Kenma was for curry while they waited for their arrival.

_ Was Kenma really okay? _

He heard his mom clear her throat, trying to clear the awkward air. “So Tetsuro, how are your chemistry classes going?”  _ Ah, good job Mom. Directing the attention to the one person Kenma probably doesn’t want to see ever again. Good call, good call.  _ Kuroo quickly finished swallowing the mouthful of food he had in his mouth.

After cleaning his mouth with a napkin, he spoke. “It’s pretty good, all my students are learning the subject pretty well. Um, my coworkers are okay, I guess. I don’t spend that much time with them,” he said, picking through the potatoes and vegetables in the curry.

The scraping of a chair across the wood floor made him lift his head. Kenma got up and started heading for the back porch. “I’m going to get some fresh air—I’ll be back.”

Everyone’s eyes followed his figure as he opened the back door and closed it. Kuroo couldn’t help but feel guilty. He shouldn’t have come—he should have just stayed home and blamed it on some homework that he had to grade.

_ How could I just think that he’d just be willing to forget everything that happened? He probably hates me. _

Without even thinking, he stood up as well. “Um, I’m going to go have a smoke, I’ll be back, sorry.”

_ Kuroo, what the hell are you doing? _ Despite his internal thoughts screaming at him to sit back down, or even leave the entire party, his feet couldn’t stop making its way to the back porch. And soon enough, he was outside in the bitter cold, his breath coming into view as he looked at Kenma. His long bleached hair was blowing in the wind as he was leaning against the guardrail, looking over the small neighborhood in Tokyo; Kuroo swallowed at the sight.

He missed Kenma, missed his voice, his face, his warmth. That night they shared together made Kuroo addicted and after being sober for so long, Kenma in front of his sight made him feel needy and desperate just to interact with him again.

He made his way towards Kenma, still keeping his distance as he rested against the ledge. Kuroo lit up a cigarette and joined Kenma in watching the Tokyo sunset. He could feel Kenma’s small glances towards him, the action making his heart flip—struggling to keep his visible emotions in check.

“How are you?” he said, puffing a pillow of smoke out of his mouth. His eyes flickered over to Kenma, noticing that Kenma hadn’t flinched or even shown a hint of a reaction to his question.

Kenma’s eyes grazed over the sea of concrete buildings. “Been better, honestly.”

Kuroo hummed. “I feel that.” The winter wind filled their silence, both too hesitant to continue the conversation.

Kuroo finished the cigarette, pressing the end into the guardrail to stop the smoke. Not satisfied with one cigarette, his nerves soaring through the roof, he reached for another one before lighting up again.

“Didn’t know you started smoking,” Kenma noted, voice still quiet.

“Yeah, I picked it up during college to help with the stress. I’ve been trying to quit for a while, but it’s hard to stop.”

“Could I try one?”

Kuroo’s eyebrows shot up, shocked at Kenma’s sudden suggestion. “You sure?” He watched as Kenma nodded. Reluctantly, he pulled a cigarette out and gave it to Kenma. He watched as the younger put the cigarette in on the wrong end, waiting for Kuroo’s lighter. A small laugh left Kuroo’s throat as he took out the cigarette and flipped it around, putting it in Kenma’s mouth correctly, before cupping his hands around the end to light it up. 

Mere seconds after, Kenma burst into a fit of coughing, taking the cigarette out of his mouth as he doubled over to try to cough the smoke out of his lungs. Kuroo howled with laughter joining Kenma on the ground as he tried to catch his breath.

“Ah,” Kuroo laughed out. “The first time you try one is never fun.”

Kenma’s coughing had started to turn into small quiet angelic laughs. “That wasn’t as badass as I thought it would be,” he sighed out. They continued laughing until they died out. Kuroo was wiping the tears out of his eyes that had built up from laughing so hard when he noticed that Kenma had a solemn look on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Kenma’s eyes shot up to meet Kuroo’s. “Oh, uh,” he paused, searching for the right words. “I just haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”

Kuroo’s heart clenched in his chest. At first, he felt sorry for Kenma, for how he hadn’t laughed in god knows how long. But then he felt giddy.  _ He made Kenma laugh. He heard how Kenma’s laugh sounded. _

Before he knew it, words spilled out of Kuroo’s mouth. “We should get coffee sometime to uh to— catch up,” he rushed out, his eyes lost in Kenma’s wide beautiful golden eyes.

Kenma nodded. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh, finally Kuroo's perspective. I was so happy adding in Bokuto and Akaashi (I love them so much). Also not gonna lie, kinda hate how pushy Kenma's mother is, but I wanted a mother character who was despisable but wasn't that awesome mom that everyone loves so much. I wanted her character to be one of Kenma's biggest supporters but be that overprotective mother who gets annoying as well. I don't know but she's just interesting. Anyways, this chapter is inspired by Circles by Post Malone. I write each chapter with one song that fits the vibe of the chapter on loop. So I suggest reading the chapter while playing the song. So far the songs go as follows-
> 
> Chapter 1 - Best Part by Day6  
> Chapter 2 - bad bye by RM  
> Chapter 3 - A Piece of Work by Villain (my personal favorite)  
> Chapter 4 - Circles by Post Malone
> 
> Yes, I am a Kpop stan lmao, but the songs really do fit the vibe. And further along in upcoming chapters, a lot of more alternative rock starts popping up cause its my favorite genre lol.
> 
> ALSO, I LOVE GETTING COMMENTS OMG. When people tell me they are excited to read my work I just get emotional because they think its good and it makes me want to keep going. So THANK YOU for the comments, I love you all so much :))


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